


With Sound On

by DrPearlGatsby



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben accidentally sends an explicit Snap, F/M, Love Confessions, Masturbation, Rey... isn't mad, Reylo Week 2020, Snapchat, college students, etc. etc. - Freeform, they live in the same dorm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23899396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrPearlGatsby/pseuds/DrPearlGatsby
Summary: Ben knows better than to send sexts. He likes to think he’s better than his Neanderthal roommates, more careful with the data he sends out into the world. He fumbles to close the app.But as soon as he comprehends what he’s done—when his big clumsy thumb hits the little blue arrow and the next screen shows an arrow under her name indicating he’s replied to Rey’s Snap—his heart drops.
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 14
Kudos: 188
Collections: REYLO WEEK 2020





	With Sound On

**Author's Note:**

> A one-shot for the fourth day of Reylo Week 2020 to fill the prompt Modern AU.

**.**

_“WE DON’T WANT D PICS, WE WANT VIDEOS OF YOU FINISHING WITH SOUND ON.” –a TikTok_

**.**

Ben has moved way past logic and shame and is completely delusional. It starts with the grumpy face she Snaps him—captioned “statics is kicking my ARSE kill me now”—and ends with all the pent-up frustration he feels seeing her in half his classes, the hallway, the laundry room, the dining hall. It’s her pretty little frown in her Snap, the little tendrils of hair that wisp around her face in tiny curls when it’s been a long day, the way she isn’t trying to play coy or stupid like so many girls in his gen-ed classes. Rey will kick his ass, and she doesn’t pretend she couldn’t. He loves that about her.

_Love_. Of course that’s part of the equation too—she doesn’t seem to date, too busy studying, and her usual group of friends is mostly couples—Finn and Poe, Armie and Rose. They have a good thing, Rey and Ben—an almost codependent thing, buoying each other up from one engineering course to the next. She’s never made a move, never indicated that this is anything but friendship, and he’s terrified of losing her. If she’s not interested in him, fine—he’ll deal with having to live with that in a year or two when they’ve both graduated. But for now—for now when she won’t stop sending him photos of her gorgeous pouty face, when she won’t stop poking at his weaknesses and relentlessly bringing sunshine into his lonely life—he’ll enjoy it the best way he can.

He’s vaguely aware that he’s still staring at her picture on his phone, holding it with one hand as his other hand works—and none of his frat-boy roommates are home on a Saturday night, so there’s no need to keep quiet. He gives himself over to grunting as he imagines her hands on him, her _mouth_ on him, coming with more of a whine than a shout. As he rests afterward, he hears something strange and holds up the phone—he’s filmed himself, the camera vaguely pointed at his face but absorbing every sound he makes as he rubs himself to thoughts of Rey.

He’s mildly embarrassed to watch himself; Ben knows better than to send sexts. He likes to think he’s better than his Neanderthal roommates, more careful with the data he sends out into the world. He fumbles to close the app.

But as soon as he comprehends what he’s done—when his big clumsy thumb hits the little blue arrow and the next screen shows an arrow under her name indicating he’s _replied_ to Rey’s Snap—his heart drops. He’s barely cleaned himself off and is pulling up his sweatpants as he’s hitting “call” beside her name, trying to get through to her, hands shaking—and the phone rings and rings and rings.

Total panic. Total _horror_.

Ben bolts out of his room, flying out the front door and racing down to the other end of the hall towards her suite. He pounds on the door, calling out her name once, listening for a sound from within, and pounding on the door again. He checks the screen on Snapchat—the message is still unopened. _For the love of all that is holy, please_ , Ben pleads, knocking rapidly on the door again.

He hears the sound of the lock, feels the door move under his hand.

“Ben!” she says, her voice sounding a little surprised. Rey is already in her pajamas, a plain t-shirt and adorable striped sleep shorts. Ben is momentarily distracted by the expanse of her tan skin, her trim legs and the shape of her small, round breasts under her t-shirt; but he snaps back to reality when he notices she’s holding her phone in one hand. She gestures with it: “I saw you just—”

Ben stupidly grabs for the phone, stopping at the last minute when she flinches away, holding it out of reach. His heart is still pounding in his chest as he pants, “ _Don’t_ open it.”

“Why?” Rey says, her smile going a little annoyed. She glances at the Snapchat screen and then back to him.

“I—I didn’t mean to send it you. _Please_ , Rey. You don’t want to—here, just—just give it to me and I’ll—” He’s desperate. He grabs for the phone again.

Rey laughs, holding the phone out of his reach like they’re playing some sort of game. “Come on, Ben. How bad could it be?”

She opens it.

Ben watches in terror as Rey’s face changes, clearly not expecting what she sees on the screen. Her smile fades, her cheeks go pink, and her eyes widen—but she doesn’t look away. Ben has no other choice but to stand there in the doorway and listen to the sound of himself panting and rutting. He prays for freak lightning to strike him down where he stands. He prays for the world to end. He feels his whole face flush red and he’s stammering, “Rey, Rey I—I didn’t mean to—I didn’t even want to, you’ve got to _believe_ me I _know_ that’s disgusting and you haven’t—I’m not like that, I swear, Rey—”

Rey looks up from her phone screen as the video ends, her mouth fallen open in surprise and her eyes still round as saucers.

“I’m so sorry,” Ben’s shaking his head, covering his mouth with both hands in some instinctual gesture of horror, “I’m _so_ , so sorry.”

Rey drops her eyes to the floor, still in shock, and takes a step back; the weighted door, no longer propped open by her foot, shuts in his face; and Ben’s heart drops.

“Rey, I—” he calls through the door, but there’s nothing left to say. _This is it_ , he thinks—the end of their friendship. The end of the only good thing he’s really had going for the last couple of years. _Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ He trudges back down the hall toward his own apartment, only to realize when he reaches for the handle that he’s been locked out. _Of course_.

One call to the harried RA (“Uh, I’m dealing with a bit of a situation right now—” _crash!_ —“can you just call Campus Police?”) and one call to Campus Police later, Ben has been reassured that someone will be there to let him in “in fifteen minutes.” He sits down on the floor outside his door for a moment, but that doesn’t help calm him, so he pops back up and resumes pacing. _Let’s see—what’s going to be worst. Lab. Lab, surely. What if I just don’t show up? Does Phasma take attendance? Have to check the syllabus. What if I do all the work beforehand, just email it to Rey—will that make up for it?_ He refuses to let himself wallow in the pain of knowing he’s lost Rey forever, instead thinking through every step of his days and trying to figure out how to stay out of her way.

Only about five minutes have passed when he gets a text message— _Can we talk_?

It’s her. Ben stops mid-pace, staring down at the screen and contemplating an answer. He’s not ready to hear it, the friend-breakup he assumes is coming. He starts typing— _Maybe later_. Erase. _I’m not feeling well_. Erase. _Sure, go ahead_ —hoping she’ll take the hint and just say whatever she needs to over text.

His finger is hovering over the “send” arrow when he reaches the end of the hallway and turns around to see her walking toward him. _No, not here_ , he thinks, feeling a little queasy—but there’s nowhere to run. He uproots his feet to move back toward his own room, slipping his phone into his pocket and waiting there for her to reach him.

“I—got locked out,” he says lamely, gesturing vaguely at his door.

Rey nods. There’s a careful, neutral expression on her face—a smile to anyone who doesn’t know her, but Ben knows better. Not a true smile. _Shit_. She stops a few feet in front of him and takes a breath.

“Ben—”

“Rey—”

Ben shakes his head, holding up both hands. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

Rey bites her lip, her face going a bit pink, and looks away. “Look, Ben, I’m not mad at you, and I believe you. I know we’re not like _that_ , and I don’t expect you to, um.” She wrings her hands, glancing sidelong at his face.

Ben furrows his eyebrows at her, unable to follow. _We’re not like…?_

“I just know that’s not _us_ , and it’s none of my business really if you want to date other girls—well, not, _other_ girls as if _we_ were dating,” her eyes dart over to his again before quickly moving away. “Just, accidents happen and I wanted to let you know I’m not going to take it the wrong way, so we can just…” She makes eye contact again, shrugging. “Go back to normal? Besides, I’m—I’m sure she liked it.”

Ben stares at her unseeing, trying to process what it is he’s hearing. He latches onto that last sentence. “‘She’… _who_?”

“You know, the… girl you meant to send it to.” Rey pretends to brush some lint off the hem of her shirt. “I’ll see you Monday in class, okay?” She turns quickly on her heel and walks a little faster than usual down the hall and back to her apartment.

Finally Ben’s brain catches up, and he bolts down the hallway after her. She’s already unlocking the door when he’s still several apartments away, and he calls out to her—“Rey!”

Her face has gone splotchy and red, and even from several feet away he can tell she’s begun crying.

A door opens across the hallway and one apartment down from Rey’s. “Would you _shut up_?” a girl in a hoodie snaps at them.

“Sorry,” Rey tells her, holding the door open and indicating Ben should come inside.

“Rey, why are you crying,” he asks when he’s finally in her living room, placing his hands on her shoulders, keeping his voice gentle and soothing. He thinks he understands, but he needs to hear it for certain—needs to have her say it herself. “You’re not upset with me, are you?”

“I’m not stupid,” she says, giving herself over to her tears. “I know I’m not—I’m not as _pretty_ as other girls, and you’re, well, you look like _that_. But I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” She looks up into his face, her expression pleading. “Just, I don’t know how I can get through this year without you, and I don’t want you to—”

“I’m in love with you,” Ben blurts.

Rey falls silent, her mouth hanging open.

“I’ve _been_ in love with you. Almost as long as I’ve known you. Rey, I didn’t mean to send that but it was definitely—er, for you.” He lifts one hand from her shoulder to gesture, twirling it in a useless circle. “Uh, not to send, but— _yeah_.”

Rey gapes at him a moment longer. Then she goes up on her toes, grabbing his face in both her hands and kissing him. She’s warm and tastes like caramel and Ben opens his mouth almost immediately—and she’s nipping at his lips and carding her fingers through his hair and next thing he knows he’s grabbing for her ass, pulling her up against him, hoisting her up as her legs wrap around his waist and stumbling down the hall towards her bedroom.

“I’m in love with you, Ben,” Rey pants when his lips leave her mouth and trail down her throat. “Please, _ah_ —Ben, _please_.”

“I’ve got you,” Ben reassures, tonguing at her neck as he reaches behind her for the doorknob. He shuts the door behind them with one foot, glad that Rey’s bedside lamp is on, and carries her towards her lofted bed. He deposits her onto the mattress and she loops her arms around his shoulders, leaning down to catch his lips again with hers, demanding entrance to his mouth with her tongue. Ben happily obliges.

Then his phone rings.

“Ben—”

“Fuck it,” Ben breathes, kissing her again.

“No, fuck _me_ ,” Rey teases, leaning back out of his reach when he goes in to properly kiss her for a comment like that. Her cheeks are a little pink, like the dirty talk embarrasses her ever-so-slightly, and Ben redoubles his efforts. Rey continues to lean back, stopping him with a gentle hand. “Take it. You’re locked out, remember?”

“Shit,” Ben cusses, taking one hand off of her to fumble into his pocket and answer the phone. “Hello?”

“Didn’t someone call for a lock-out at 427?”

“Sorry, I was at a friend’s,” Ben tells the annoyed officer. “I’m just down the hall. Be right there.”

Rey relaxes her grip on him, patting him on the head in a way that he’s sure is meant to be mildly annoying. He frowns up at her, but she just grins. “Hurry back, yeah?” Then she winks—she honest-to-God _winks_ —and Ben leaves her bedroom knowing he’s the luckiest bastard alive.


End file.
